Choices
by betterleftblank
Summary: Just a one-shot I wrote that I had forgotten about - It deals with Spencer coming out and the aftermath.


**Choices.**

Everybody has them.

That's what we're told, but that's not always the case.

Sometimes we don't have a choice at all.

Certain people think my "lifestyle" is a choice, but those people are wrong.

I didn't ask for this.

I didn't ask to be born this way.

I didn't ask to like girls.

It was decided for me, and I'll be honest, there are many days when I wake up and wish that I was straight. I'm well aware that no amount of wishing will change who I am, but it's not the easiest thing to deal with.

I knew from an early age that I was different from my friends. I had no idea what that difference was mind you; I just felt that there was something that separated me from them.

They discussed what their dream wedding would be like.

I never did.

They went boy crazy when puberty hit.

I never did.

They started dressing to impress.

I never did.

I figured my time would come when I was ready.

It never did.

I remember thinking that we didn't need boys to have a good time and more often than not, I was proven right.

My friends didn't think that way though.

I got teased about not having a crush on any of the boys in our class, so I picked some jock that would never look at me twice. Then I was teased for liking him because I was crazy about someone out of my league.

I didn't care.

I finally felt like I wasn't so different anymore.

It was an illusion of course.

I was still me.

I was still hiding a huge part of who I was.

I had this huge secret that I couldn't share with anyone.

Not even myself.

And then she entered my life.

A person that I was drawn to like no other.

A person who I considered my closest confidant, but my thoughts about her weren't the same as my thoughts about my other friends.

It didn't occur to me that I wanted to spend too much time with her. It didn't cross my mind that the insane jealousy I felt when she went out with her boyfriend was unusual.

I refused to acknowledge the way my stomach churned when we touched.

Or the way my body reacted when we cuddled during sleepovers.

Or the way my heart fluttered when she held my hand.

It was a classic case of being in love with the straight girl who had no idea how I felt. But I never saw it that way.

Because I was straight too.

Except I wasn't.

And neither was she.

When she broke up with her boyfriend I felt guilty for being happy. I felt bad for relishing in her pain. On the outside I was the same; on the inside I was a mess of confusion, anxiety and nerves.

Something had changed in our friendship, and I wasn't quite sure what that change was. Every time we were together, things seemed more intense than they used to be. Our looks lingered, our touches lasted longer than necessary and our feelings grew stronger. When we were alone, in my room or her room, there seemed to be this invisible bubble around us that I never wanted to leave.

That bubble scared me.

It made me snap at her for no reason.

It made me look forward to seeing her, but also made me terrified of what might happen when we were by ourselves.

It made me love her and hate her at the same time.

I had entered a stage in my life that I didn't feel ready for. But I'd soon learn that even if I didn't feel ready, I couldn't stop the events that were about to take place.

I tried to run.

I tried to hide.

I tried to push her away.

I tried every conceivable way to keep the change that was occurring in our relationship from actually happening.

She didn't let me.

She told me it would be okay.

She told me there was nothing wrong with what we were feeling.

She crossed that invisible line first.

She turned my world upside down with one kiss.

One kiss that changed me.

I wasn't confused anymore.

I wasn't questioning the feelings I was having.

I finally got it.

But I didn't really like what it meant.

And I've felt out of sorts since.

While the kiss explained so much of what I was going through, I felt exposed and vulnerable afterwards. She was great, it was me that couldn't process the implication of what being gay actually meant.

It was like I understood everything and nothing all at once.

I felt liberated by that kiss, but I also felt weighed down by what I'd be labelled as from that point forward.

I wonder quite a bit if my desire to keep our relationship a secret is bothersome for her. She hasn't said anything but I see something in her eyes every so often that makes me feel guilty for staying silent.

She hasn't put any pressure on me to come out.

She hasn't put any pressure on me to acknowledge that we're more than friends.

She hasn't put any pressure on me to take our relationship to the next level.

She's just been there for me.

Loved me.

Listened to me.

Supported me.

Comforted me.

And I feel like I haven't given her enough back. She tells me all the time that I'm being ridiculous because she doesn't need me to rush anything.

But it's all getting too much for me to keep inside any longer.

There's this giant boulder on my shoulders and it's starting to drag me down.

I feel like an impostor.

I feel like a liar.

I feel like I'm constantly on edge.

I feel like any second my web of half-truths is going to be discovered.

I can't live this way for another minute.

I just can't.

I'm tired of pretending to be someone I'm not. It's not fair to me, it's not fair to her and it's not fair to everyone else in my life.

I want to live as my authentic self, not as the image I've created of who I think people want me to be.

**Choices.**

Everybody has them.

That's what we're told, but that's not always the case.

Sometimes we don't have a choice at all. 

But right now, the choice to be honest is mine to make, and that's exactly what I'm going to do.

I'm petrified of the consequences that my admission will have. I could be rejected by my parents. I could be told I'm no longer welcome in their home. I could be looked at as someone that disgusts them.

But the consequences of keeping my feelings bottled up are far more dire.

I'm trembling as I work up the courage to say the words I've barely admitted to myself. I see the concern and compassion in my parent's eyes and I wonder if that will change to disdain when I reveal my sexuality.

She offered to be here with me; I told her no.

Regardless of what happens I have to do this on my own.

Take this step.

This leap of faith.

This cliff dive that has the possibility of crushing me if my parents take their safety net away.

The closer this moment gets to becoming reality, the more anxiety I feel. My heart is beating at a rapid pace, my palms are sweaty, my body is buzzing and my head is spinning.

I don't think I can go through with this.

I don't think I can witness the disappointment I know my mother is going to feel.

I don't think I can release the part of me I've kept in hiding for so long.

I never got the meaning of the word surreal before. I understand it completely now. This moment does not seem at all real.

I feel like this whole thing is happening to someone else, not to me. I'm not the one that lets people down. I'm not the one that ruffles feathers. I'm the one that follows the rules. I'm the one that goes along with the crowd.

But I'm now the one that's about to turn everyone else's world upside down like she did for me.

I could sound off on the fairness of having this choice taken from me. I could, but it won't help me get those words that feel stuck in my throat out.

I'm seriously contemplating chickening out when I feel my phone vibrate. I know who it is, so I use the call as a chance to collect my thoughts and get some words of wisdom from the one person that can make me feel better.

I leave the living room to take the call with a promise to return in just a minute.

When I get my phone out, I see that nobody's on the line, but I do have one new text message. My fingers shake as I fumble to see what she sent me.

My breathing is shallow and my whole body reacts to the strain of everything that I'm feeling. I finally manage to get the message on screen and when I read what she's sent, I tear up.

**Courage is not the lack of fear. It is acting in spite of it.  
No matter what happens today, I will support you.  
I love you with all my heart.  
And that's never going to change  
Ever.**

I can't even describe how much her words mean to me. How much she means to me. There are none that would cover my feels adequately.

She's given me courage when I didn't think I'd find any. She's given me that extra push to do the right thing.

How can loving her be wrong?

How can her love for me be anything but amazing?

How can what we feel for each other be disgusting?

And by being honest, I'm saying that none of those questions can be true.

I take a few minutes to calm myself down so I can finish what I've started. When I'm ready I return to my parents and to the journey that began so long ago, but this isn't the end of it.

It's a middle point that's needed, and it's also just another step on the road of life that I have to go through.

It takes a few attempts before I'm able to release what I've locked up for years.

My voice cracks.

My body won't stop shaking.

My eyes hit the floor because I don't have the strength to look up and face two people who I love dearly.

I rock back and forth as I wait for a reaction.

I can't take anything back.

It's out there now.

There's no way of changing my mind now.

They know.

Everyone else will know soon enough.

I'm not me anymore.

I'm not who they thought I was.

I've destroyed that illusion.

I've shattered their dreams for me.

I won't have a husband, 2.5 kids and a house with a white picket fence.

I won't live a future they already planned out.

I made a mistake.

I wasn't ready.

They're not ready.

Hot tears burn their way down my face.

Why?

Why me?

Why was I burdened with this?

There are no answers.

There is no rhyme or reason.

I'm terrified by the silence we've been plunged into. The silence that screams rejection and contempt.

The silence that tells me everything I need to know.

They don't see their daughter anymore.

They see a freak.

They see someone who will never be everything they want me to be.

I think I hear my mom's voice but I can't make out what she's saying. My head is filled with noise and my heart is breaking.

I'm never going to be me again.

I won't be Spencer.

I'll be 'Gay Spencer.'

I'll always be viewed as that from this day forward. It will be like a giant sign that hangs above my head for the world to see.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I hope against hope that I'm dreaming. I wish that were the case. I would give almost anything to wake up and be back in a place where I haven't just made the biggest mistake of my life.

It's my dad that reaches me first, followed closely by my mom. Their arms are around me before I have the chance to ask any questions.

Their calming touches and loving words are able to break through the haze in my mind.

I hear them say they love me just the same.

I hear them tell me that I have nothing to be ashamed of.

I hear the sadness in their voices, but it's because I'm upset, not because I've destroyed them.

I hear everything, and yet I'm having difficulty taking in all the events of the past few minutes.

I did it.

I did it and I'm not being yelled at or scolded.

I did it and I'm being drawn in, not pushed away.

I did it and I'm ok.

I survived.

I overcame my fears.

I was scared, but I didn't let that prevent me from being truthful.

I feel so…

Actually, I don't know what I feel exactly, but I do feel a lot lighter than I'm used to feeling.

That giant boulder is gone.

It was destroyed by my truth.

My truth that has set me free.

It's so overwhelming but so exhilarating at the same time.

I detect some disappointment coming from my mom, but it doesn't bother me. She's trying so hard not to show me that side of her, and I love her even more because of it. My dad is just as supportive as I imagined him to be.

They're amazing.

I'm so lucky.

And grateful.

They tell me nothing's changed, and I want to believe them.

I want to believe that we'll just go on like we used to, but I know that there will be a period of adjustment.

I do feel odd though.

Not in a bad way.

I can't place my finger on what I'm feeling actually, but I know it's not something I have to worry about. I excuse myself to call Ashley.

To call the person I know is frantically worried about me somewhere close by.

Just in case things didn't go well.

I decide not to call her though; I want to talk to her in person.

I need Ashley to help me sort through everything.

I need Ashley to hold me close and clear my mind.

I need Ashley to understand that from this moment on, I'm going to show the entire world how proud I am of her.

How lucky I am to have her.

How thankful I am that she loves me.

And to show the world how much I love that girl.

I message Ashley and almost instantly I get a response back saying she'll be here in two minutes.

I walk in on my parents talking in hushed tones, and I know they've been discussing me. I'm not bothered by that because they've made it clear that they don't plan on ever not loving me.

I tell them Ashley's picking me up and then I brace myself for their reaction.

My parent's aren't stupid, I'm sure they've put two and two together.

They tell me to have a good time but also to be back by curfew.

Once again I've underestimated them.

I'll deal with that later, because right now, I need my girl more.

I open the front door and the first thing I see is her worried brown eyes as she walks up the path to greet me.

I'm a bit choked up by everything so I smile in order to calm Ashley down. I want her to realize that I'm ok.

I'm ok…

I am ok.

I'm in love with a girl and there's nothing wrong with me.

I'm in love with a girl and I couldn't ask for anyone better.

I'm in love with a girl I'm proud of.

And I'm also proud of who I am.

I'm lucky to have Ashley.

I know there's nobody else out there that can love me like she does.

Her arms are around me in a flash.

I sink into her.

I relish in the feeling of being loved and cherished.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispers in my ear. "I love you Spence."

"I love you so much." I reply through my tears. "And I'm so lucky to have you in my life." I tell her, because I need Ashley to hear that out loud instead of it being implied.

I wasn't given the choice to be gay or not.

I wasn't given the choice of having Ashley enter my life.

I wasn't given the choice on how my parents would react to me coming out.

I'm not always given a choice to make, and yet, in the biggest moments of my life I've been the one who's chosen the direction I'd take.

I chose to accept my sexuality.

I chose to accept my feelings for Ashley.

I chose to be honest with my parents.

**Choices.**

Everybody has them.

That's what we're told, but that's not always the case.

Sometimes we don't have a choice at all. 

Which is fine by me.

Because sometimes the choices we don't have end up being things we would never change.

And that's exactly how I feel when I choose to kiss the girl I love with all my heart, in front of my house, where anyone could see, without a care in the world.


End file.
